It’s in italics beside what I guess to be his real name. Lawson Montgomery. I flip through the pages of the file and, like the others, see a date of birth, parents’ names—some seem to have a whole family tree, but this one doesn’t. He does have a brother, but according to this, they’re estranged. I see his address and wonder if that’s where the cellar is. It would match up to the length of time it took us to drive to IVI.

I close the file and set it aside. I don’t want to read about him. I don’t want to think about that time.

I don't recognize the next set of names, but then I come to another one I do. Van Der Smit. Jackson’s last name. The file is about another man, though. Marcus Van Der Smit. From the date of Marcus’s birth, I’d say he’s maybe an uncle? Are these all members of IVI? And why does my brother have detailed files on all of them? Is it my brother or my father, though, who’s kept these?

Opening another one of the drawers, I find more of the same stacks. I don’t have the energy to go through them, though, and there’s nothing about my father or Hazel in here, so I get up and go back to the kitchen to try the back door. I can at least walk around in the backyard to get some exercise and fresh air.

The door has the same keypad on it as at the front, and I dig out the sheet of paper from my pocket to unlock it, not sure how it works to get out once I’m in, but when I punch in the code, I hear the same sounds and see the green light. Just in case, though, I drag a chair over to keep the door open. The day is cool, and I don’t have a jacket, but it’s nice to be outside, so I hug my arms around myself and walk around the yard. I can hear cars drive by. A baby cries somewhere not too far away. And I think about my own baby and then about Santiago. How it could have been different for us. How I’d felt like it was getting there, at least a little.